A Tangled Neverland
by Hockey23Girl
Summary: THIS IS MY FIRST FANFICTION EVER. I'm terrible at summaries. What kind of adventures can Peter and Rapunzel go on? What sort of mischief can those two rambunctious kids get in to? PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! flames are expected.
1. Chapter 1

As evening was setting, in the kingdom of Corona, all was peaceful. Many were going through their nightly routines. Mothers putting their children to sleep, late workers closing up for the day, others cleaning the dishes from dinner that had been left out. All was peaceful, but a sadness was setting in.

Five days from now, would be the birthday of the lost princess. A little more than eleven years ago, the Queen became very ill. She was almost due to have a child, but she was in no state to perform that task. She was bed ridden and in a constant pain. Even the greatest doctors and healers were un-able to make a remedy to heal the Queen. If something didn't happen soon, they feared the Queen, and her un-born child, wouldn't make it.

They needed a miracle

The King had heard of a magic, flower, that possessed the power to heal the sick, and injured. The legend stated that one, single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens and grew from the soil in to a beautiful, golden, Lily. The whole Kingdom went out, in search of said flower.

For centuries, the magic flower had been hoarded by a wicked old woman. She used the flower to keep her body physically young, but her mind was ancient, and she knew of many secrets and legends that proved to be true. She hid the flower and used it only for herself.

One fateful night, the woman had used it, singing the special song that emits the flowers power. She didn't really need it right now, and she did not waste, but she had seen the villagers and knights searching for her flower. She meant to use it, then leave it hidden, unused for as long as possible, as not to give it away, and wait for the Queen to either heal on her own, or for the people of the kingdom to lose hope and end the search. Instead, right as she ended the song, she hear shouts. She turned and saw lights of the lanterns the villagers. Quickly she covered the flower and made a hasty retreat. She hid and looked out to it.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had knocked the basket, that covered the flower, off when she had been in a rush.

"We found it! We found it!" were the shouts of the villagers. They uprooted it, and immediately took it back to the Queen. A remedy was made from the flowers petals.

The kingdomers were not wasteful, however, they planted the roots in the castles garden, but the plant died. The flower only grew once.

A healthy baby girl was born, with beautiful golden hair. In celebration of her birth, the King and Queen launched a flying lantern in to the night sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended. The old woman, desperate and frantic, broke in to the castle, stole the child, and just like that, gone. She had meant to just take a lock of hair. That seemed much more practical and easy to hide, than a flower, but when she cut the hair, the power was lost and the lock turned brunette, including the strands, that still lead to her scalp.

The kingdom searched and searched, but could not find the princess. Deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, the woman raised the girl as her own.

As long as she didn't cut her hair she had found her new magic flower, and this time, she was determined to keep it hidden.

The walls of the tower could not keep everything hidden, however.

Each year on her birthday, the kingdom released thousands of lanterns in to the night sky, in hope that one day, their lost princess would return.

Now, as evening was setting, everything was becoming hushed.

Everything except for an almost-eleven-year-old girl in her tower.

"Yah! Yah!" she exclaimed galloping about.

She wore a bucket on her head, a towel tied around her neck. She ran around the table, straddling a broomstick. A perfect knight-riding-a-horse costume, if she did say so herself.

She made the sound of a horse whinnying. "The brave prince rode up, on his trusty steed! 'Don't worry, Pascal, I'll save you!'" the girl called out to her friend, who sat up on a shelf.

This friend was no ordinary friend. This friend just so happened to be a chameleon.

"The knight jumped off his horse," she said dropping the broom, "and scaled up the mountain! If he slipped, he would be sure to meet his doom!" she yelled as she climbed the stairs, that wrapped around the side of the room. "He was just a few feet away when. . . !" She turned her head, eyes wide, "Oh no! A dragon!" She stared, horrified, at the floor below, where the imaginary dragon stood. "The dragon breathed scorching hot fire! If it were to touch him, it would melt off all of his armor and burn him to a crisp! Just then -" she paused. She looked at her window. She swore she saw something move.

She thought of all of the possibilities that could have caught her eye. She thought about all of the things her mother had told her about. Monsters? Men with pointy teeth? She shook her head. Thinking more rationally, she decided it must have been a bird.

The only thing was, it didn't look like a bird. It looked more like it was shining, like it emitted a light.

Slowly she climbed down the stairs and picked up her broom. She crept to the window, holding it out in a defensive stance. She came up to the window and looked out.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Below, above the pond and grass, floated many blinking lights. They drifted smoothly about, making beautiful designs. Fireflies.

One must have strayed all the way up to her window. That explanation didn't seem quite right either, for the light she had seen was bigger, but it was good enough for her. She smiled and watched them.

"The world outside can't be so bad, if they have pretty fireflies," she said to her chameleon friend who followed her to the window. "I wonder what it's like out there," she stared wistfully.

She heard a noise above her, slightly to the right. A sound of something flying through the air. Not of a bird, there were no 'flaps' of the wings. It was more of the sound of something being thrown through the air. Like a frisbee, or a rock.

She tensed up and turned her head, so she was looking up. Nothing.

For a moment, she wished her mother were here. Mother never put up with nonsense, so she would have put the girls head straight. She would have insisted it were her imagination, or it really was a bird, and the girl would believe her.

At the moment, her mother was on a journey. She had to pick something up, and buy her a birthday present. She had said it would take about four-days-time. She would get back just in time to celebrate her birthday.

The girl shook her head again and the moment passed.

"Well, Pascal, I guess we should go to bed." She looked over at the chameleon. He nodded in response.

She climbed the stairs, hair trailing behind her. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth.

Once she was done she looked in the mirror. The blond-haired green-eyed girl stared back in the reflection.

She smiled and slugged over to her bed. She climbed under the covers. Her bare legs feeling the smooth sheets. She soon fell asleep and dreamt of gallant knights and strange floating lights.

Around midnight a small thump woke her up. She was a very light sleeper and the noise was so quiet, she was surprised it woke even her. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she looked up.

She gasped and froze. Above her, on the ceiling was a boy! He was staring down on her!

Instinctively, she lifted the covers over her head. Slowly she brought them down. He was gone.

She layed there, heart still racing from adrenaline. She stared at the spot where he had just been. Maybe it was just a dream. It had happened so quickly. She didn't know, but now she was alert and she wouldn't be able to sleep now.

She reached to her bedside table to the candlestick and lit it. She climbed out of bed and opened the curtain to the stairs and walked down. She got to the bottom and set the candle on the table. Then she some more candles so it wasn't so dark and shadowed everywhere.

She sat at the table and sighed. Pascal climbed up and sat next to her folded hands on the table. He looked up at her, droopy eyed, cocking his head, as if asking "What's wrong? Why are you up so late?"

She sighed again and held him in her hands. "Oh, Pascal. I just had a crazy dream and now I can't sleep,"

He tilted his head and made a chirping noise. He was Asking, "Would you like to tell me about it?"

She shook her head, "No, I don't remember the dream," she lied, "it just woke me up and now I can't sleep."

He nodded in understanding.

"Maybe a story will help me sleep," she said, "are you in the mood for one?"

Pascal nodded, slowly. He was about to fall asleep, story or not.

She put out a few candles to dim the room more and help Pascal sleep. Then, she walked to her window.

The night sky was not dark. It was not black and didn't have a nightly feel. It felt alive.

The stars above reflected on the pond below and everything had a glow. It was beautiful. The light breeze brushed her face. She stared up at the stars, then at the pond. Fireflies no longer lingered and everything was still, except for the rustling trees. A cricket was chirping somewhere.

She could sit here all night and just stare. She figured she could spend the rest of her life here. Everything was so beautiful, so perfect, it was as if you held still long enough, and didn't make a sound long enough, you would blend in with nature and every secret would be answered.

Finally, she broke the silence, "On most evenings, such as this, all of the children on earth would be sleeping and dreaming. Most would be tucked away, safe and sound, in their warm beds, and kissed on their temple by their mother. Most children would have entered a dream land, where everything was perfect, and they could do anything,"

She began the story as a book would. She hated to begin stories with "Once upon a time," because that hinted that the story took place in the past. It was so vague, it just bothered her to the point where she couldn't bear to hear it, let alone say it.

She continued on, "Yes, this is what most children did. It was routine and necessary. However, on this particular evening, a boy was, also, in a dream, yet he did not sleep. He was warm and cozy, but he was not wrapped in a blanket on a warm bed. He was soaring above the clouds, almost mocking the other children, for they did not live their dreams. They lived in the real world, while the boy never left his dream. His fantastic dream, full of adventure. He didn't wake right at the best part of the dream. He went right on through and knew what came next. The boy soared and dipped, in and out of the clouds. He laughed a wild laugh and his chest was full of joy. A wild grin spread across his face. He went on fantastic journeys no other child could ever dream of having. He was forever a child and nothing could change that, unless he chose to live in the real world. He would never chose to do that, though. He loved to hear new stories, so he visited the real world often. He would sit on roof tops and listened to children telling stories to one another. He loved to imagine he was in each story, and each child was telling the story about him, because he was special, and shouldn't every child know about him? The best part of the dream was the knowledge of never waking up, never growing up, never turning to a man,"

She paused, the breeze seemed to stop. The cricket was silent. The whole world held its breath, listening to the girls story.

"The boy always felt a pain when he came to the real world. He didn't know what it was, but it hurt every time."

She paused yawning. She turned her back to the window and stared at her home. She decided she was tired enough to go to bed. Besides, she didn't know where she was going with the story and nobody was listening, so it didn't matter. She scooped up Pascal and blew out the last of the candles.

She picked up her own candlestick and carried it back to her room.

She didn't really need it, though. There was a bright glow that lit her way. Wait, bright glow?

This glow was different from the one of the moon. This one was yellow, and bright, like the sun.

She froze. The glow was still behind her, but she could tell it was moving.

Then a voice spoke out, "Don't go yet! You haven't finished the story!"


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys have no idea how much guilt I felt for not continuing this. It's been a long while since my first chapter, and I PROMISE to keep updating. I'm sorry if this chapter disappoints or feels rushed… I wrote it in one sitting, after feeling a burst of inspiration. The biggest reason it took me so long to update was because I wasn't sure where I was going with the story. I think I do now, and I hope you guys enjoy. Critics welcome, and advice appreciated :)**

**It's not as good as the first chapter... I really need to get back into a writing routine.**

The girl whipped around, dropping her candlestick to the ground. The only sound she heard was the pounding of her blood in her ears, and the sound of the metal object clanking down the stairs.

Pressing herself up against the wall, her eyes became orbs as they took in the sight of the boy. She couldn't quite make out his features. He was just a silhouette, surrounded by the moonlight glow.

And he wasn't touching the ground. The boy was floating.

Finally silence, as the candlestick came to a rest. The boy cocked his head, "Did you forget or something? You were telling my story. You can't just stop like that,"

The girls legs felt weak as she remained petrified by the appearance of the other child. She tried forming words, but her mouth just gaped like a fish.

Her legs buckled underneath her, and she reached out to the railing to catch herself, a scream beginning in her throat, but suddenly she wasn't touching the ground anymore. The boy had caught her, and suddenly she was staring into his freckled and dirty face. Grime covered his cheeks and his hair was in curls on his head, but she was startled at the intensity of his blue eyes. They held mischief and innocence, but somehow they were ancient and dark at the same time. Like he had seen too many things in his young life.

Now she did scream.

"Woah, hey! Quiet down-" the boy started, but she twisted and pushed away, this time crumpling to the ground.

She scrambled to the wall grabbing the first thing she touched, a frying pan she had been playing with that she had forgotten to put away. Holding it in front of herself she cringed away from the boy. "M-mon-!" she swallowed a choke, "Don-Don't touch me!"

"'Mon'? 'Mon' like monster, or were you trying to say mom? I'm not a mom," he rested on the ground in front of her, ignoring her hysterics. "I don't even have a mom," he added proudly.

She trembled staring at him.

"What, did you go deaf all of a sudden? And why'd you go and make me drop you? I was trying to help, you know,"

The girl swallowed, and finally found her voice, "Who are you?"

He stared at her for a moment, "Me?"

She nodded.

"Well, first, you were just telling a story about me, so I don't see how you don't know who I am. Second, you're holding it,"

She glanced down at the object in her hand, "I'm holding what?"

"Earth-to-crazy-girl, my name,"

"...You're name is frying pan?"

"No! Just 'Pan'. Well, not just pan, but it's a part of it." He came closer holding out his hand, "Peter! Peter Pan,"

She looked at his dirt covered hands, and black fingernails. Disgust crept into her features, but she tentatively reached out.

"Rapunzel,"

Peter jerked her hand quickly, but stared at her, "Ra-what? That's not a name,"

Rapunzel slowly stood, but she looked a bit offended, "Ra-pun-zel," she pronounced, and continued, "is too a name. Pan isn't any better!"

"At least mine sounds cool," he shrugged, floating about the tower, touching everything he passed, "yours sounds like an old lady's name or something. And trust me, being 'old' and a 'lady' aren't cool things,"

By now, Rapunzel had definitely come to the conclusion that this boy was not a threat, but was entirely annoying. She just hoped she was dreaming and that she could wake up later, and tell Pascal about it. Where was her friend, anyway?

"Pascal?" she asked, looking around.

"You want to be called 'Pascal'? That sounds dumb, too-aAH!" he screamed, shooting upward.

Rapunzel watched as Peter flailed, a green chameleon latched stubbornly to his ear. She stifled a laugh, but then gasped when a floating light shot at Pascal. Quickly the scene changed to a scrambled mess, and Rapunzel could no longer tell what was going on.

"Pascal! What's happening, don't hurt him!"

The light carried the squealing reptile high into the air, as Peter slumped on the ground clutching his ear. Rapunzel ran to the boy shaking his arm, "What's happening!" she repeated.

He hardly glanced up before inhaling sharply, holding his ear again, "Tink," he managed.

Gripping his arm tighter, "What? Don't hurt him!"

Groaning he called out, "Tink, it- it's fine!"

The squealing stopped and Pascal was dropped. Rapunzel scrambled to the chameleon and cradled him in her palms, "Pascal, oh are you alright?"

The reptile just lolled its head around, letting out a chirp as if to say, "never been better,"

She sighed, hugging him to her cheek, and turned on the boy, "Do you have something to say for yourself?"

Peter gaped at her incredulously, "He attacked me first! And besides I wasn't the one who hurt him!"

"Yeah right, and that was just the tooth fairy?"

"Of course not!" he retorted, "that was Tinkerbell!"

Raising an eyebrow, she repeated, "'Tinkerbell?'" and suddenly the light was shooting right to her face. Rapunzel flinched, but when she opened her eyes, she saw what it truly was.

Gasping, she said, "Oh my, she's beautiful!" and reached out a bit, before the small fairy zoomed out of reach.

"Don't repeat that, or she'll get a bigger head," Peter said, rolling his flew over and hit his head, making an audible knocking sound, "Ow!"

Rapunzel giggled a bit at the scene.

"You think that's funny? How do you like this?" Peter grabbed at the broom she had left out, and held it before him, "en garde!" A glint shone in his eyes.

Rapunzel studied him for a moment before raising her pan, accepting the challenge. Soon enough, they were having a duel, both surprisingly talented given their young age. Parries were blocked, and they both swung with alarming accuracy.

"You're good at this," Peter admitted, after being blocked yet again, "for a girl," he advanced, pinning her to the wall.

Rapunzel stood, adrenaline racing, and hid her thoughts behind a mask of fear. In her peripheral vision, she could see a flower pot above her head, hanging on a hook on the wall. Eyes locked into the boy's, she slowly raised her other hand in a surrender.

Peter looked triumphant as he let his guard down, and let her go. He was oblivious to her next move, as she grabbed at her hair, whipped it around and swung upwards. Shocked he looked at her, and began to say, "What?" but was cut off, as the flower pot came crashing down on top of him. The boy sprawled on the ground, laying in the dirt, as Rapunzel leapt on top of him, and pinned his arms above his head.

"I think I won," she smirked. She reached to his hair, and pulled out a stray flower, pinning it to her own hair, adding, "you were right. I am pretty good… and a girl."

He could only lie there, stunned that he had been taken down so easily. The boy had years of experience, and always kept track of his surroundings. How did he forget about the flower pot? He decided it had been only because he underestimated her. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

Glaring up at her, he spat, "It was only because of your long hair! Girls are crazy!" He rolled out from under her, and flew above her, "Besides, I went easy on you. I didn't use my blade."

Rapunzel's eyes widened as she watched him pull a dagger out of its sheath on his hip. Gasping, she backed into the wall again.

Noticing her reaction, Peter regained his confidence, "Oh, now you're scared? I've used this on plenty of people," he grinned darkly, and came dangerously close to her, locking eyes, "Do you want a haircut, m'lady?"

She let out a shrill, swinging her pan at his head. He easily deflected it, but let her scramble away. Peter let out a laugh, "Who's winning now?"

"Please don't! Don't touch my hair!" She whimpered.

The boy ran his finger along his dagger, debating whether or not if he should do it. Finally he slid it back into it's sheath, and stared her down, "Consider us even."

Rapunzel let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed. Trusting this boy would be a struggle.

A realization came to her then, "Why are you here?"

Considering the question, he lied back, floating with his arms behind his head, and drifted in a slow circle, "Why are you here?"

Getting frustrated, she retorted, "I asked first."

Rolling so that he was on his stomach he rested his chin on his hands and said, "Well it's none of your business,"

Rapunzel scoffed, saying, "I think it is. You're in my home anyway,"

Peter studied her. Finally he answered, "You're… different."

"That's why you're here?"

"Well… yeah, I guess," he admitted, sounding unsure, himself. "I mean, just look at your hair."

"So you're here for my hair?" she asked, knowing that wasn't the case.

"What? No! Why would anyone want your hair?" he made a face.

"If you don't want my hair, then why are you here?" She asked, ignoring his question.

After dismissing his confusion about her hair, he thought again. Then he said, "Well, you're a kid."

"Haven't you ever seen a kid before?" She asked.

Rolling his eyes, he quickly answered, "Obviously," he floated around some more, "but you're the only kid who doesn't pretend to be grown up."

She considered that for a moment.

"I mean, you're smart, and you tell stories like a grown up, but that's just because you're weird," he ignored her protest, continuing, "And you like adventure. That's different, at least for a girl."

Rapunzel didn't know how to respond.

"And you're alone a lot," he added, as an after thought.

"Well my mother tries to protect me, so she goes on journey's a lot," she tried to explain.

He scowled, "Mother's" he made a sound of distaste, "What's the use of a Mother?"

Shocked, she stared at him, "Don't you have one?"

"I just told you earlier that I don't," he crossed his arms, "I don't need one."

"Everyone needs a mother!" she sounded astonished, "Where do you live if you don't have a mother?"

He shrugged, but his eyes held a glint.

"Mothers keep you in order, and protect you from the monsters," Rapunzel continued.

Peter cut her off, "I can do that on my own. And what good is 'order'? I do just fine without that."

Rapunzel thought for a moment. She had never seen a fairy before, but Peter brought one to her. She had never seen another boy, but Peter found her. Mother had never talked about fairies. Mother had never talked about flying boys, either. In fact, she had never talked about other children, unless it was about how monsters eat them. Rapunzel had never really considered that there were other children like her. She had always believed that she needed to be protected. Why didn't Peter?

"Where do you live?" she repeated.

This time, he came closer to her, his face demanding a challenge. Tinkerbell flew next to his ear, making chiming noises, but Peter swatted at her, maintaining eye contact with Rapunzel. "Do you like adventure?"

"Of course," she answered, thinking of all of her pretend battles, and the exhilaration that still lingered from their sword fight.

"Then come with me, and I'll show you."

**After rereading this, some parts seem really choppy and rushed, and I formally apologize for that. But hey, practice only gets you better, right? I'm hoping for growth in future chapters. Also, criticism and advice is more than welcome.**


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